The state of frustration

So yesterday I spent the morning at social services.  It was a very difficult decision.  I occasionally get the comment on here that goes like "It was my choice to have 11 kids, I shouldn't expect the taxpayers to pay for them."  That and the fact that I know this state is a joke with their "assistance," and what one is expected to do to be entitled to any "help." 

I took my number and had a seat.  I was number 55 and before I was called in they were up around 80.  Everyone around was commenting on how they had never seen it so slow.  It was my first time at this office, as I haven't had the pleasure of needing "assistance" since we moved.  After about two hours of trying to read in the waiting room, and not being able to due to a lively discussion behind me between three friends who were all applying and discussing their latest job walk-off, live-in boyfriend, son's boyfriend, and daughter's pregnancy peppered with more f-words than Boondock Saints before I shut it off, I was called in.

I explained that I wanted to apply for cash assistance because I hadn't received child support in 5 weeks.  I also explained that I had a few job applications pending and that I only received $600 in food because the state felt I was making so much.  The truth was, I had not seen a penny in 5 weeks.  The man was very nice.  Too nice.  He made me a flow chart and explained the difference between men and women.  He said that because women spend 75% of their time on their kids, the men eventually leave to find a new honey who will give them back the 100% they got when first married.

OK.  Can I please get some help?  Can I feed my children?  Well Courtney is in community college, he noticed, reading my application.  Yes, but she is 17 and lives at home, doesn't drive, and still homeschools, as well.  College kids don't get food stamps, all college kids would be on them.  Sigh.  And you need to spend 4 hours at Jobs First, learning how to fill out an application before we can approve you, and we have 45 days to approve you.  Or not.

I explained that I had gone to this Jobs First class last year, and that I was waiting to hear from the applications I had out there already.  Didn't matter, he says, when he got that job, he was an MBA and he had to learn how to sharpen a pencil all over again.  If I don't go, I won't even be considered.  And did I know that they are supposed to have 8 men on, but they only have 3?  And if he does intake all day, they can't answer phones.  And if they answer phones, they can't process paperwork.  So don't call.  In 45 days, I might get $280/week to pay my bills, if I go to this seminar and prove I spend 35 hours a week actively looking for employment (in eastern CT where the job ads are shorter than Brandon's last essay). 

Fine.  I knew it was not going to amount to anything, but I have 11 children.  10 I feed on a regular basis.  8 minors.  It's a mild winter, but still winter.  Heat, hot water, showers and dishes and laundry all take oil.  Oil is an average of $570 a month.  Then there's rent.  Electric.  Phone.  Not to mention gas to get these college kids to school and look for these jobs, toilet paper, clothes, shoes, you get the picture.  I explained that it was not my choice to have these 11 kids alone.  I explained that I was home, doing God's work for 20-odd years, and that my BS in English gets me squat around here, especially with no experience.  I actually ventured to ask this dude's opinion about what he thinks I should do.

"Get a T.V. show," he answered.